


like a grenade (with the pin still in it)

by cathect



Category: IT (2017)
Genre: M/M, bisexual as fuck richie tozier, eddie and richie are dumbasses in love, eddie needs glasses, gay AS FUCK Eddie Kaspbrak, here's some fluff to feed you guys, hey look who's writing reddie again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 06:18:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15066995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathect/pseuds/cathect
Summary: -“You sure you’re okay?” Richie asks. “Looking a little cross-eyed there, buddy.”“I’m fine,” Eddie replies again, a little more forcefully. He softens it, adding on, “Thanks, though.” Richie doesn’t look particularly convinced, but he doesn’t say anything more.For the rest of the hour, Richie doesn’t turn his laptop away, and Eddie doesn’t look at the board. It’s just a headache, and Richie’s screen is closer and less of a strain to read. It’s definitely not because, when Eddie tries to look forward again, he finds that the words on the chalkboard are evenlessclear than they were before.Definitely not that at all.-or, the one where eddie needs glasses.





	like a grenade (with the pin still in it)

**Author's Note:**

> oh my god is that devilstrip/cathect writing reddie again? even after she said that, even though they're a good ship, the fandom was too oversaturated with their content and it sort of turned her off of them? i think it is... yep, that's exactly what this is. enjoy some soft reddie.
> 
> thank you as always to erin for editing and to natalie for her endless support in the middle of an ihop.

Eddie first notices it in class.

He sits in the middle of the lecture hall: close enough that he can pay attention, but far enough back that he can busy himself on his laptop if he gets bored. Richie’s sitting next to him— though God only knows why Richie is taking an advanced psychology class when he’s a music major— and he’s taking surprisingly diligent notes, pausing every once in a while to lean over and make a joke in Eddie’s ear.

Eddie watches as the professor writes something across the chalkboard. The letters are relatively big, and he knows that this professor has pretty neat handwriting. But, for some reason, he can’t quite make out what it says. He squints his eyes and leans forward in his seat and that helps, but only a little.

“You good, Eds?” Richie asks.

Eddie rolls his eyes, though he doesn’t really mind the nickname anymore. “Fine,” he says, even as he’s tilting his head at odd angles, trying to read the board.

It just doesn’t make any sense. Eddie could read this board just yesterday, and he has the notes to prove it. But maybe it’s the angle— he and Richie sat in those seats to his left yesterday. Yeah, that has to be it. Besides, his head is hurting a little bit from how late he took his medication today, so that’s probably a factor as well.

Eddie hears a sort of _shhhh_ sound and looks over to see Richie angling his laptop to his left. With a quiet thank-you, Eddie leans over and scans through Richie’s notes to see what he missed. As he copies the information down into his own, he can see Richie watching him out of the corner of his eye.

“You sure you’re okay?” Richie asks. “Looking a little cross-eyed there, buddy.”

“I’m fine,” Eddie replies again, a little more forcefully. He softens it, adding on, “Thanks, though.” Richie doesn’t look particularly convinced, but he doesn’t say anything more.

For the rest of the hour, Richie doesn’t turn his laptop away, and Eddie doesn’t look at the board. It’s just a headache, and Richie’s screen is closer and less of a strain to read. It’s definitely not because, when Eddie tries to look forward again, he finds that the words on the chalkboard are even _less_ clear than they were before.

Definitely not that at all.

-

“I’m so fucking excited for this movie,” Richie says as he slings an arm around Eddie’s shoulders. “It’s going to be amazing. So much better than the last one.”

“Really, Rich? We had no idea.” Bill appears on Richie’s other side. “You’ve only said so a million times.”

Eddie feels Richie’s body shift as he gently elbows Bill in the ribs, and the smaller boy laughs at his friends. It’s been a long week full of quizzes and projects, and the three of them had spontaneously decided on a movie to take their minds off of it. Eddie’s excited to sit between his two best friends and listen to them whisper over his head like they did when they were kids. Maybe Richie will even hold his hand like he almost did the last time the Losers went to a movie.

“You wound me with your laughter, Spaghedward.” Richie lays a hand over his heart. “And to think, I was going to let you share my icee.”

“Gross.” Eddie scrunches up his nose at the thought of the drink Richie calls a Tozier Freeze: all six icee flavors mixed together. He pulls himself out of Richie’s hold. “I’m good, thanks.”

Instead, Eddie saunters up to the snack counter and digs his wallet out of his back pocket. He’s going to order the ridiculously overpriced soda-popcorn-candy combo he always gets but, just like always, he can’t remember which number it is.

“Just one second,” he tells the employee waiting behind the register. The guy gives a quick customer service-smile that Eddie is sure disappears the second he takes a step back and looks up at the big boards displaying all of the food options.

Eddie freezes.

The numbers next to each picture are big and neon yellow, and they’re the only things that are perfectly clear. He can read the descriptions since they aren’t too far away, but they’re definitely a little fuzzy. Eddie wonders if it’s always been that way and he just never noticed before now. He guesses that it’s possible, considering that every time he’s here he’s with his friends, and they can be pretty distracting. Distracting enough that squinting a bit to read a sign wouldn’t have stuck out in his mind.

“Eddie.” Richie’s voice breaks through his thoughts and Eddie turns to look at his friend. “Were you gonna get something?” Richie looks torn, like he wants to move closer to Eddie or reach out for him, but doesn’t know if he should. Bill is at his side, watching on just as curious.

“Umm—“ Eddie glances at the display one more time, and feels his stomach turn unpleasantly. “No,” he says. “I’m not really hungry.”

It doesn’t sound anywhere close to convincing, and it shows in Richie’s concerned expression, but neither he nor Bill argues the statement.

“Okay,” Richie says a little slowly. This time he does come forward and he puts his arm around Eddie again. “Well, come on. Movie’s going to start soon and we need to find seats.”

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees. He lets Richie guide him over to Bill and the three of them walk towards the auditoriums. “We’re in seven,” he says, hoping to God that the catch in his voice is just his imagination.

Richie doesn’t let go of Eddie until they’re climbing the steps to their seats. Bill picks his spot— he’s picky about where he sits, so everyone usually just follows his lead— and Eddie and Richie fall in next to him.

“Hey,” Richie says after a minute, leaning over into Eddie’s space a bit. His hand is resting gently on Eddie’s forearm and Eddie feels his nerves ignite. “Is everything okay?”

The tone in his voice is so soft and sweet that Eddie almost balks. He glances over at Bill, only to see that he’s engrossed in his phone, not even close to listening. Something in Eddie settles at the thought that this exchange is private, just between him and Richie.

“Yeah,” Eddie says, though his voice shakes with the lie. “Everything’s fine. Why?”

Richie stares at him for a second, like he wants to ask again, but he just shakes his head. “Nothing,” he says. “Nevermind.”

Eddie opens his mouth— to say what, he’s not sure; maybe to assure Richie again— but closes it with a small squeak when Richie’s hand trails down Eddie’s arm to twine their fingers together. He looks down at their hands, then up at Richie with wide eyes, and Richie just grins.

The auditorium lights fade and Eddie is thankful for the cover of darkness to hide his blush. Bill puts his phone away and looks over at his friends. A small smile tugs at his lips and Eddie’s cheeks burn even hotter.

Richie squeezes his hand as the first trailer begins, and Eddie forgets about everything else.

-

“You need to get your eyes checked.”

Eddie blinks a few times in surprise at Richie’s comment, not entirely sure how to respond. Richie had been staring at him a moment ago, studying his face and sort of looking like he was about to kiss him, and now Eddie thinks he might have been misreading the whole situation. Maybe Richie really _did_ just come over to study.

He clears his throat. “What?”

“Your eyes,” Richie says. He leans back on the couch and Eddie finds himself cursing the distance it puts between them. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you squinting at everything, and how you’ve been sitting closer to the front of the class.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “My eyesight is just fine,” he says. “Just a little blurry sometimes. I’m sure it’s just allergies or something.”

“Allergies,” Richie repeats, deadpan. Eddie shrugs and Richie sighs with a shake of his head. “Eds, you’ve been using my notes. _My_ notes. Something has to be up.”

Eddie has to physically restrain himself from smacking Richie upside the head, just like he always does when Richie pretends not to be as smart as he is. Instead, he focuses on the conversation at hand.

“My eyes are fine, Richie.” He reaches over and grabs his notebook from the coffee table. “Aren’t we supposed to be studying?”

He opens the textbook sitting on the cushion between them, only to have Richie immediately close it, barely giving Eddie enough time to pull his fingers back.

“If your eyes are fine, then that’s what the optometrist will say.” Richie’s voice is set and serious, something that it never is, and Eddie feels a little like a child being lectured. Enough so for him to bristle and angle his body away unintentionally. Richie seems to jump at the reaction, and he rushes to continue. “Just— let me take you to mine. I’ve been seeing her for years and she’s really good.”

“Richie, I don’t—” But Eddie pauses. Because the truth is that he probably really _does_ need to go, he’s just scared.

He’d been actively avoiding Googling any of this, terrified of the results that might pop up. That is, until last night, when his curiosity and worry got the best of him. He’d typed in “suddenly blurry vision” and the results were… less than comforting. Especially considering that, if it was something as simple as Eddie needing glasses, then his wildly overprotective mother would have taken him in to see someone years ago, right?

Eddie gives a resigned sigh. “Fine.” He snatches the textbook out of Richie’s hands and opens it in his lap. He figures the moment— if there really was a moment, and it wasn’t just Eddie’s imagination— has passed. “Now, will you please help me study for this stupid test?”

Richie looks at him for a moment before he gives a soft smile. “You’re cute when you’re mad.”

Eddie blushes furiously and begins to loudly read the first question of the practice quiz.

-

“Alright, we are all done here.” Dr. Bayer pulls the phoropter away from Eddie’s eyes and sits back in her chair for a moment. “I just have to go check something in the other room, and then we can talk about the results, yeah?”

Eddie nods. “Yes, ma’am.”

With a smile, Dr. Bayer ducks out of the room and shuts the door behind her, leaving Eddie alone. The walls are bare and clean and white. So white, that Eddie’s still-dilated eyes almost burn with it. He glances at the floor, and one leg starts bouncing of its own volition. His mind is racing at a thousand miles a second, wondering what exactly his _results_ are going to be.

Suddenly Eddie feels so scared he thinks he might implode.

He stands up and opens the door, peeking his head out and looking towards the waiting room. Richie is slouching in one of the chairs by the door with his arms crossed over his chest. Eddie clears his throat, hoping to get his attention even from so far away. When Richie doesn’t look up, Eddie internally groans.

“Richie,” he says. An older man in the row of chairs closest to Eddie looks up. Eddie offers a small, embarrassed smile and glances away. “ _Richie_ ,” he tries again. The same man looks at him with his eyebrows drawn together and Eddie shrinks in on himself.

With a small groan— an outward one this time— Eddie scurries across the room and kicks Richie lightly in the shin. Richie jumps and looks up, throwing his arms up like he’s ready for a fight. Eddie’s heart is pounding so bad that he can’t even be bothered to laugh.

“Eddie?” Richie stands up when he sees the look on his friend’s face. “Are you okay?” He reaches out and takes Eddie’s elbows into his hands.

“Yeah, I just—” Eddie clears his throat, glancing around them. A few people are trying to pretend like they aren’t watching, and Eddie can feel their eyes. “Would you mind, umm, coming back and waiting with me?”

Richie doesn’t hesitate. “Yeah, of course.”

They walk back to the room together and Richie falls into the chair in the corner. Eddie takes his place in the examination chair once again, and Richie’s presence really does make him feel ten times better. But it only takes about two minutes for his nerves to get the better of him.

“What if it’s something really bad?” His voice is watery when he speaks, and he finds himself having to blink back sudden tears. Richie is in front of him in an instant, and Eddie takes the hand he offers without a second thought. “What if there’s something really wrong?”

Richie doesn’t speak at first, most likely because he’s not sure how to respond, but he finally sighs and squeezes Eddie’s hand. “Whatever happens,” he says, “you’ll get through it. And I’ll be right here, okay?”

Eddie looks up at Richie for a long time as the words sink in. He doesn’t know exactly what he means by them, exactly what him _being here_ means, but he feels comforted either way.

“Yeah,” he says after a bit. “Yeah, okay.”

“ _And_ ,” Richie says. “If they end up having to scoop your eyes out, I’ll make sure to get you the cutest service dog possible.” He pauses and draws his eyebrows together like he’s thinking, and speaks slowly. “Not… that… you’d know.”

They both burst into laughter, and Eddie shoves at Richie’s shoulder playfully with his free hand.

There’s so much more that Eddie wants to say. He wants to thank Richie for always calming the storm in his chest. He wants to tell him that just by holding his hand, Richie is doing more than he could ever realize. He wants to make sure that no matter how often Eddie says he hates him, Richie knows it isn’t true.

Eddie starts to say it— some of it, _any_ of it— but Dr. Bayer takes that moment to walk back in.

“Alright,” she says, drawing out the word in the way doctors always do. She looks up from the clipboard she’s holding, and smiles as Richie lets go of Eddie and retreats back to his chair. “So, Mr. Kaspbrak—”

Eddie holds his breath, wishing Richie was still holding his hand.

“You have myopia.” At the look of panic on Eddie’s face, she chuckles warmly. “Don’t worry, don’t worry. It just means you’re nearsighted.”

“Oh, same,” Richie says. When Eddie looks over, Richie is laying sideways in the chair, his legs hanging over one arm. He meets Eddie’s eyes and shrugs. “What?”

Dr. Bayer laughs, clearly used to Richie’s behavior. “Anyway, as you can see, it’s very common. You and Mr. Tozier here are hardly alone.” She gestures to Richie who sticks out his tongue and holds up a peace sign. She turns back to Eddie with an even bigger smile than before. “Just means you need glasses.”

“Wouldn’t that have started when I was a kid?” Eddie asks as he finally tears his eyes away from Richie’s unbearably goofy smirk. “It doesn’t usually happen this late in life, right?”

“Well, yours is a very mild case.” The doctor lifts the top page on her clipboard and consults the second. “It’s extremely possible you’ve had it for most of your life and just never thought too much of it. I’ve had a few patients who just thought they were getting old— in their twenties.”

She laughs, and Eddie chuckles a little with her just to be polite.

“But, like I said, your case is mild.” She reads off his prescription, and the numbers mean nothing to Eddie, but Richie’s soft smile confirms that it really isn’t bad at all. “All you need is a pair of glasses.”

“Aww, Eds,” Richie says. “We’ll be twins!” He holds the sides of his own frames and lifts the glasses up and down while wiggling his eyebrows.

Eddie gives Richie a mock look of horror, and Dr. Bayer must take it seriously, because she says, “Or contacts.”

“No,” Eddie says immediately. He suppresses a shudder at the thought of having to stick something onto his eyes every day for the rest of his life. “No, glasses are fine.”

“Perfect.” She tears off the bottom portion of the page she’s looking at and hands it to Eddie. “Here’s your prescription. You’re welcome to look around at the glasses we have here at the office, but you could also get them from pretty much anywhere.”

Eddie pauses to see if Richie will make some stupid comment, and it almost seems like Dr. Bayer is doing the same, but Richie is preoccupied with holding up his middle finger to the camera of his phone.

“Right,” Eddie says after a moment. He stands up and offers the doctor his hand. “Thank you so much, Dr. Bayer.”

“You’re so welcome.” Her handshake is firm, and she grins as they part. Richie has appeared next to Eddie’s side, and he shakes her hand as well.

“‘Til next time, Dr. B,” he says. “I think I have an appointment next month.”

“Oh, be still my beating heart.” She places a hand over her chest and dramatically flutters her eyelashes at him, and Richie snorts. “You two have a good day, alright?”

“Thank you, you too.” Eddie’s still smiling but, as soon as she turns around, he smacks Richie in the arm.

“Ouch!” Richie whisper-yells, even though Eddie didn’t hit him very hard. He brings his other hand up and rubs over the spot. “What was that for?”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Being yourself,” he says. “Now, come on. I want to go see what my options are.”

-

As it turns out, Eddie doesn’t like any of the glasses at the optometrist’s office… nor does he like any at the other three places they try in and around town. By the time they’re discussing going to a store about an hour away— which Richie is _totally and completely willing to drive him to_ — Eddie makes the smart decision to finally look online.

After nearly an hour on FaceTime with Bev, showing her different pairs and discussing his options, Eddie finally settles on a simple pair of classic black Ray Bans. They’re pretty similar to Richie’s, save for the fact that Richie’s are dark green, and Bev says they’ll compliment the shape of his face. Bev’s always right about things like that, so Eddie orders them.

They show up within a week, the same night that Bill is throwing one of his stupid parties, and Eddie decides it’s just too good of an opportunity to waste. Besides, Richie is driving him tonight, and they haven’t seen each other in a few days. It’ll be the perfect surprise— and Eddie would be lying if he said he didn’t miss being the center of his Trashmouth’s attention. Just a little bit.

He tears open the box the moment it’s in his hands, and nearly pokes his eye out from how fast he shoves them onto his face. The world is thrown into an almost obscene clarity, and he has to take them off again to keep from getting dizzy. After making his way to the bathroom, he puts them on a second time, much slower, and blinks until he thinks he can handle the view.

They look… good— in Eddie’s opinion, anyway. It’s not that he ever thought they’d look bad, it’s just that the only time Eddie has ever seen himself with glasses on, it’s been through the blur of putting on Richie’s coke bottles. As he turns his head from side to side, he comes to the conclusion that he fucking _rocks_ the glasses look.

After that, getting ready for the party is easy. Eddie stopped trying to dress any sort of nice for Bill’s parties after getting beer spilled on him three times in a row. He throws on a pair of jeans and a dark grey v-neck then throws himself onto his couch to pass the time on his laptop until Richie picks him up.

 

 

 

Richie’s late, as usual, and shows up around 8:15.

He knocks, which he only remembers to do about half the time, and Eddie sits up to call out, “It’s open!”

“Hey, sorry I’m late. My car was—”

Richie stops dead in his tracks when he jogs into the living room. His hand is frozen where it was gesturing behind him, and he’s staring at Eddie.

“Do you… like them?” Eddie asks, blushing under his gaze. He’s actually nervous to hear what Richie has to say. This is exactly the reaction he was hoping for, it’s just that he wasn’t expecting it to be so obvious.

“You look—” Richie swallows whatever his first comment was going to be, and shakes his head with a tight smile. “They look good.”

Okay, so. Not _exactly_ what he was hoping for, after all, but still good.

“Thanks,” Eddie says, rocking slightly on the balls of his feet.

They stand in silence for a few moments before Eddie can’t let it go on anymore. “Anyway,” he says. “What happened with your car?”

“My car?” Richie asks, seeming to be actually confused by the question.

Eddie laughs a little. “You were late because…”

Richie shakes his head. “Right, yeah.” He clears his throat and blinks. “Yeah, just, erm, car troubles.” He laughs awkwardly and Eddie can’t take his eyes off the way he’s so clearly affected by something as simple as Eddie wearing glasses now.

“Did you hit another deer?” Eddie asks with a smirk, taking pity on him and helping to keep the conversation going.

It seems to snap Richie out of it, and his facial expression changes from something resembling shock,  to exasperation. “Okay, first of all: that was _one_ time, and the deer was fine. I barely even grazed it.” He holds up one finger on his right hand. “Second of all: I had a flat tire and had to change it.” A second finger joins the first and Eddie rolls his eyes.

“Right, okay. Whatever, idiot.” Eddie stands up and tucks his phone into his back pocket. He pats his other pockets, listening for the telltale jingling of his keys, and gives a satisfied nod when he’s done. “You ready to go?”

Richie doesn’t answer, and Eddie looks over to see him staring again. Eddie giggles and waves his hand in front of Richie’s face as he walks closer. “Richie.”

“Sorry— what?” Richie shakes his head a couple of times and meets Eddie’s eyes more directly again. “Sorry, yeah. I’m ready. Let’s go."

 

 

 

Richie won’t stop staring.

At first, it was cute and endearing, but now it’s getting to the point that Eddie is scared he might crash the car. He takes his eyes off the road every thirty seconds or so to look over at Eddie, and stares at him out of the corner of his eye when he’s facing forward. Every time he notices it, Eddie’s cheeks grow a darker shade of red.

“What?” He finally asks.

Richie’s eyes snap to the road. “Nothing.”

They drive for a bit longer, and Richie’s staring only gets marginally sneakier. It’s mostly via his peripherals now, but Eddie can _feel_ him looking, and it’s almost worse this way.

“ _What_ _?”_ Eddie tries again. Richie’s fingers tap nervously against the wheel but he doesn’t answer. He’s chewing on the inside of his cheek, and his left leg is bouncing. “Oh my god, Richie, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Nothing!” Richie throws his hands up for effect before realizing what he’s done and returning one quickly to the wheel. He sighs and runs the other through his hair. “Nothing, I just— Eddie, you look really good with glasses, and I really want to kiss you right now, okay?”

He blurts out the last bit, and the words blur together a bit, but Eddie understands.

“Oh,” he says softly. He digs his thumbnail into the soft plastic of his phone case and bites at his lip— two nervous habits combined into one comforting moment. “Well, why don’t you?”

The time between Richie’s small, surprised intake of breath, and the moment he pulls the Jeep over to the side of the road is virtually nonexistent. He’s barely got the car in park before he unbuckles his seatbelt and scrambles out. He comes around to Eddie’s side and yanks open the door.

“Get out,” he says, stepping back to give Eddie room. When Eddie doesn’t immediately do so, Richie huffs. “Eddie, _please_ get out of the car.”

Eddie nods and fumbles with his seatbelt for a moment before he gets it off and Richie pulls him to his feet on the ground. Richie’s hands come up to frame his face and Eddie swears he could count the freckles on his face from how close they are.

“Okay?” Richie asks. It takes Eddie a moment to realize what he’s asking— his brain is having a bit of a hard time catching up— but then he nods so fast that it almost hurts.

Eddie feels Richie’s breath on his lips as he whispers, “Thank fuck,” and kisses him.

There aren’t any fireworks, there aren’t angels singing in Eddie’s ears, but he does feel an odd sense of calm. Like he should have been kissing Richie for years and he’s just now realizing it. His hands come to rest on Richie’s chest and it almost feels like finding purchase on the side of a cliff.

Then Richie tilts his head and opens his mouth and suddenly there’s this weird clacking sound as their glasses press together. Eddie makes a small, frustrated noise in the back of his throat, but doesn’t pull away. Richie adjusts the angle. The clacking happens again, and there’s a pressure against Eddie’s brow bone.

“Son of a bitch,” Richie mutters, pulling back just enough to look down at Eddie. “Well, one of us is going to have to change.”

Eddie barks out a laugh and reaches up to take his glasses off, but Richie shakes his head.

“Let me,” he says. “Please. Keep yours on.”

He lifts his own frames up and rests them on the top of his head. He squints when he looks down at Eddie this time, and Eddie would probably laugh again if Richie wasn’t leaning down to pick up where they left off.

With half the problem out of the way, it goes a lot smoother. Richie licks across Eddie’s bottom lip and Eddie opens his mouth without hesitation. One of his hands slides up into Richie’s hair and it feels so natural to grip onto the unruly curls. It feels so natural to be doing all of it.

It’s a good while before Eddie comes back to himself and realizes that he and Richie are making out on the side of the road. And as great as it is to be pinned between Richie and his car with Richie’s tongue in his mouth, it’s getting dark and they’re already late to Bill’s.

“Richie.” Eddie speaks as the kiss breaks slightly. It’s supposed to get Richie’s attention, but it sounds more like a moan, and Richie groans softly in response. The sound is distracting enough that Eddie lets Richie bite down gently on his bottom lip before he tries again. “Richie.”

“Mm?”

Richie trails his lips down to Eddie’s jaw and Eddie loses his train of thought again, but only for a moment this time.

“We should— _fuck_ — we should get going,” he manages. “We’re already late.”

“It’s a Denbrough party,” Richie says. “There’s no such thing as late.”

Even still, he pulls back and tugs his glasses down into their proper position, smiling bright when he can see Eddie clearly again. A smile that quickly melts into a smirk.

“We can go,” he says, “on one condition.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows. “What’s that?”

“We get to make out on your couch when I take you home later.” Richie says it like it’s a fantasy of his and Eddie feels his face go hot at the realization that it just might be. That it might be something Richie’s been fantasizing about for a _while_.

“Yeah,” Eddie says, a little breathless. “Yeah, yes, deal.”

Richie grins and kisses him again. “Deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> leave me a comment telling me what you thought! without validation, i shrivel up like mother gothel in "tangled."
> 
> come visit me on tumblr @devilstrip!


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